The Guy Next Door
by iWatchtv
Summary: Sometimes, it takes a different perspective...Tiva. One shot.


**Note: **This idea came to me the other night and wouldn't leave. So, I decided to write it down and i personally like it. And, let's be honest here, it was either write this or work on homework. The choice was obvious. Anyway, as much as i love the idea of Tony and Ziva together, i think one of the best parts would be Gibbs finding out about it. So thus this story was born. Oh yeah, and i never say their names once in this story. i thought that was kinda cool. And one more thing, I don't want anyone thinking Stan(read the story, you'll understand) is some creepy guy who spies on his neighbors. He's just an average joe who gets dragged into this. Now enjoy. And review. But mainly enjoy. You should review thought too definitely. No pressure, you just have to do it.

The Guy Next Door

Stan whistled as he walked to his car. He wasn't talented at all, but this was a special case. He was going home.

Not that this is unusual; Stan had gone home the same way at nearly the same time every weekday for the last three years. What was different now was what was waiting for him there once he got there. Silence.

Nearly everyday for the last three years, Stan's nights had been plagued by loud bangs thumps and the not so rare screams and moans. All thanks to his neighbor. The man went through women faster than a fire in a lumber yard. A different girl once a week, sometimes more.

He had met him before, been to poker games together, small talk if they met in the mornings, but he definitely didn't know the man well enough to ask him to keep his night time activities to a minimum. That was just something you didn't do.

But that had been before. Now his nights were relatively quiet. No laughs, giggles, squeals or even the banging of the headboard came from the other side of his wall. All was well in Stan's world.

He drove leisurely home and made a quiet home cooked meal, watched some TV before going to bed. Now, Stan wasn't an anti-social recluse, he had friends and the occasional girlfriend, he just enjoyed quiet nights at home occasionally. Currently, he was taking full advantage of his neighbors dry spell.

He had just settled into his bed, and was slowly beginning to drift off into sleep when he heard a door slam. He had almost managed to convince himself that it could be one of the doors down the hall when he heard both a male and female voice laughing in the apartment beside his. Stan sighed sadly to himself. It seemed that his days of quiet were nearing an end. Half an hour passed before his neighbor's dry spell ended officially.

Five hours later, he was still awkwardly staring at his ceiling trying to ignore the constant stream of sounds emanating from the apartment next to his. He tried keep his thoughts focused on something mundane, such as what language the woman kept screaming and moaning in. Italian? Spanish? Latin? He shook his head. Definitely not.

Hebrew? He thought tentatively. His train of thought was interrupted by a particularly loud thrust of the headboard and accompanying moan. When nothing followed it, Stan smiled and relaxed. They must both have stamina to die for, but even they must tire out eventually. He attempted once again to get to sleep before being awakened by more noise. However, it was something he had never heard from his neighbors room in the three years he had lived next door.

Murmuring.

He raised his eyebrows. Pillow talk was not one of the things he had come to expect from the guy next door. Maybe this different from those one night flings? He rolled over.

It wasn't really any of his business anyway.

The next morning he managed to catch a glimpse of the mystery woman. She was one of those exotic women. Dark hair, dark eyes, sexy accent. Again, not really any of his business, so he didn't make any active attempts to meet her.

The next three nights went on much the same. The fourth day was when things became interesting and, if only for a few hours, Stan was pulled out of his normal routine.

It was a Saturday and he had slept in, the night before had been no different and he was severely sleep deprived. He was interrupted from his breakfast by three brisk knocks on his door. He cautiously opened it and was greeted by the sight of a tall silver haired man.

"NCIS." The man quickly showed him a badge with the agencies name on it. Stan wordlessly let him in. He had never heard of any NCIS, but he had seen the very real gun not-so-subtly hidden under the mystery man's jacket.

"Nice place." He commented absentmindedly "Any interesting neighbors?"

"Um...not really. Why is NCIS interested in my apartment?" Stan quickly flipped through his actions in the past month.

"What do you know about the next apartment over?" The man said ignoring the question.

"The guy over there has a lot of girlfriends. Well he did. Now he has one. There was a break in the middle, but now he definitely has one." Steve rambled. Something about the man in his living room unnerved him.

"Really." It wasn't a question. More like a statement.

"Is he in trouble? Did he break any laws?"

"You could say that." The man smiled to himself as if it was a joke only he understood. "Here." He tossed him a card with a phone number on it. No name. "Next time he brings her home, give me a call." He then turned and left without saying another word leaving Stan staring after him.

That night, Stan was sitting at his kitchen table staring at the scrap of paper with the mystery man's number on it. He hadn't asked for advice from any of his friends, because, let's face it, he doubted any of them had been in a situation remotely resembling this one. He hoped against hope that the new couple would decide to give themselves a break that night, or at least go to her apartment. Unfortunately, his hopes were dashed by the sound of mingled male and female voices drifting down the hall.

Stan listened to them talking, laughing and eventually as moving on to the bedroom. Then he was faced with the dilemma of potentially pissing off his neighbor, or the man who had visited earlier. The silver haired man. The gun carrying silver haired man who worked for a mysterious secret government agency.

His fingers flew over digits on his phone.

Within fifteen minutes, the three brisk knocks again resonated through his apartment. He again opened the door and the man walked in. He had a slight smile on his face as he heard the exuberant sounds from the other room.

He didn't say a word to Stan, only a small nod of acknowledgement as he quickly strode into the bedroom where the wall was the thinnest. He patiently waited for a few minutes unperturbed while Stan grew increasingly uncomfortable. Finally the man quickly pounded on the wall.

"I thought at least one of you would be smart enough to count to twelve." He shouted over the noise the two on the other side were creating. It suddenly was so silent Stan thought he had gone momentarily deaf. The man walked towards the door before pausing and turning back to him. He winked.

"I think you'll be fine for a while. Get some sleep." He said before closing the door behind him. Stan collapsed onto his bed. There were some things in life you should just never get involved in. This was one of them.

He grinned to himself.

At least it was quiet again.


End file.
